


The State Of The Children

by Living_Free



Series: Slip and Slide [21]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Batfamily, Crack, Fluff, Gen, Genius Tim Drake, Humor, ass punching, bruce worries about fatherly duties, damian experiences emotions, evil pixie twink tim drake, jason and dick learn the horrors of being shipped, magic user damian wayne, tim is wildly inappropriate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-28 20:00:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17793812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Living_Free/pseuds/Living_Free
Summary: Damian is using his magic.Jason is amazingly vindictive.Bruce has a mountain of worries,and Tim has many secrets that he unburies.





	The State Of The Children

Time seemed to slow as Todd fell backwards, over the edge of the building upon facing a blow from Bane's fist to his chest. Damian could just imagine his eyes, blown wide with surprise behind his helmet. His mouth parted in a shocked 'O' as he registered the pain and the loss of his footing. 

Damian needn't have worried - Red Hood's boots had extraordinarily engineered traction, and Jason was a fantastic acrobat himself, able to hang from the edge of the building until Dick jumped down and saved him.

Honestly, Jason would have rather fallen, had he known that the alternative was being glued to Dick's chest as they flew across Gotham, Dick dribbling sweet nothings in his ears the whole time. 

But back to Damian's anguish.

As Jason teetered over the edge of the building, Damian let loose a wild scream of desperation and grief. The culmination of the raw emotion being loosed served as a catalyst to draw his magic to the fore. 

He hadn't intended to do it, really. But as Damian lifted his hands and shot green flames from them, he knew that he couldn't take it back, and continued to burn. 

What remained was a very crispy and charred Bane, who was bundled away to Blackgate prison, and a shocked and emotionally distraught Damian, standing tiny and alone on a rooftop in the dead of night. 

Suddenly, he felt a hand drop onto his shoulder. Damian looked up and saw Bruce, his face unreadable under the cowl of the Bat. "We're going home, Damian."

Damian sniffled. "B-but Todd..."

Bruce looked confusedly at Damian, and steered him into the Batmobile and drove back to the cave, Damian sitting small and unsure next to his father. Bruce drove in silence, only stopping to offer Damian a juice box in a silent detente. Damian sipped his mango drink and stared out the window, lost in his own thoughts.

All his angsting was put on hold as Bruce rolled to a stop in the cave, and Damian was able to step out to see...

"TODD!"

Jason was sat on the stretcher, looking none the worse for wear, and having his pinkie finger bandaged by Dick, who paused ever so often to administer a boo-boo kiss to the injured digit. 

"Damian," Jason greeted him easily.

"You are alive!"

At this, everyone stopped and stared at Damian. Jason scrunched his nose. "Ye...es? Are you, er, disappointed?"

Damian burst into tears. 

After ten minutes of coddling and cooing and hugging, Damian quieted to some semblance of normality. "I- I saw you fall from the roof," Damian shouted. "I thought you to have perished, a smudge on the concrete, staining the streets of Gotham forevermore!"

"Oh, no," Jason said quickly, "Dick caught me. We've done that particular maneuver before. Although we probably should have told you beforehand-"

"Todd you wide-arsed fool!" Damian cried, pointing at Jason accusingly. "You have caused me great emotional turmoil this day, and I shall be avenged! Grayson, avenge me!"

Dick nodded, then reached down and hugged Damian. "No, no, punish Todd!" Damian cried, even as he clambered into Dick's lap. "Drake! Avenge me!"

*SLAP*

Silence fell over the cave as the sound of Tim slapping Jason's face reverberated through the air. Jason stood stock still, his head twisted from the impact. Then, slowly, he turned his head to stare at Tim, who was already quailing after his momentary show of bravery.

"Run," Jason whispered.

Tim scampered, his arms flying about wildly and screaming as he went upstairs, with Jason in hot pursuit. Several seconds later, there was the sound of a thump and a squeal and then silence. 

Damian put his hand over his mouth. "Drake is deceased! Oh woe is us, for Todd has murdered Drake in the manner he has long threatened, by 'shoving his fist up Drake's arse and punching his intestines!'"

Bruce cringed. He often wondered why Jason was so...Jason.

The doors to the cave opened, and Tim waddled in quickly, clutching both bum cheeks. He quickly waddled over to the large dinosaur, and opened the emergency hatch before squeezing in. Seconds later, Jason came tearing in, a manic look in his eyes. 

"He's in the dinosaur's butt hatch, isn't he?" Jason hissed. Everyone nodded. Jason grinned and walked over to the dinosaur predatorily. "Oh Timmy," he whistled, "come on out. I'm not mad..."

"You can't get me here," Tim shrieked, "your huge butt can't fit up the hatch anymore! I'm safe!"  
"So long as you stay there, perhaps," Jason hissed. "But I can camp out right here, waiting, and watching. And the minute you step out-"

"-I won't!"

"When was your last cup of coffee, Timmy?" Jason asked sweetly. 

Silence. Then, "Brooooose?"

Bruce sighed. "Yes, son?"

"Can you drop some coffee down the dinosaur's mouth please?"

"No. Come out and fight your brother."

Leaving Jason and Tim to their squabble, Bruce turned back to Damian, who was watching with delighted eyes. "Damian," Bruce said carefully, "you used your magic tonight."

Damian perked up. "Yes Father! Raven and I have been practicing my pyrotechnics for just such a situation! I am so pleased that I have mastered my firepower!"

Bruce stared. "That was...planned?"

"I have practiced," Damian said, bobbing his head happily. "Grayson! Grayson, did you see? I can conjure green flames!"

"That's so amazing, Dami," Dick said, his eyes going wide with genuine surprise. "Green is my favorite colour."

"Mine too. Excellent taste, Grayson."

Bruce watched as Dick and Damian went back upstairs, conflicted. On the one hand, Damian had gained pyrotechnic skills, and had shown genuine emotion towards Jason. On the other hand, there had been spectators at the fight, and Robin had used magic. 

Whatever happened, tomorrow would surely bring interesting tidings, Bruce thought, as he watched Jason set up a sleeping bag as the base of the dinosaur's anus. 

***

The next morning, Bruce practically leapt on the newspaper at the breakfast table, almost knocking Tim aside. 

Speaking of which, Tim was walking with a definite limp. Bruce would have to address that. 

"Tim, why are you limping?"

"Jason punched my ass," Tim whined. 

"Jason!"

"He slapped me!" Jason yelled. 

"Fine, but no more fighting," Bruce said, feeling decidedly like an accomplished father. 

"Tim's ass got flatter," Cassandra said in perfect English. Dick gasped and ran over to high five his sister for the savage burn, and smother her with pride and affection. Bruce rolled his eyes and finally was able to grab the morning paper. With dread, he unfurled it.

"What does it say, Father?" Damian asked, sounding unusually subdued. 

Bruce did not answer immediately, and continued to stare blankly. Several seconds later, he cleared his throat and read, "Nightwing and Red Hood Spotted Flying Together - Is RedWing Truly Real?"

Jason shrieked and Dick stumbled backwards. Bruce continued to read, "Last night, a fight between Bane and the Bats of Gotham took place on the rooftop of the old Westerfield Building. At a crucial moment, Red Hood was seen to land a critical punch on the supervillan, and was pushed off the roof for his efforts. 

"Luckily, he was caught by none other than Nightwing himself, and they flew across Gotham to safety, chests pressed flush against each other. In a haze of adrenaline fueled, battle worn thoughts, who is to say what could have taken place when they finally landed?"

Bruce set the paper down and massaged his temples, while Jason looked ready to explode. Dick looked flabbergasted and sat down weakly next to him. "Little Wing," he said finally, "they think that we are being nasty with each other."

"Oh my god," Jason groaned, "Roy is going to laugh and laugh and laugh at me forever. Can you believe this bullshit!? Damian shoots literal fire form his hands, and all they publish is how close together our nipples were!"

"How can they write about us so scandalously?" Dick cried. "My love is so pure!"

Jason stormed out of the dining room, dragging Dick with him, to see if they, in their vigilante personas, could extract a written apology and make the Gotham Gazette retract their libelous claims. 

Back in the dining room, there was a strained silence. Damian quickly finished his milk and insisted that Cass teach him some ballet. Taking the opportunity, they too fled, leaving Bruce and Tim alone in the tense silence.

Well.

Tense for Bruce. 

Tim, for once, was not at all tense. Bruce seemed to realize this. "Tim," he said severely.

Tim giggled like the manic, evil, pixie that he was. "Yes, it was I!" He trilled. "I work under a pen name for the Gazette, and it had to be done! I only just got it in on time to make the morning paper."

"Why," Bruce asked, sounding tired and resigned to his fate. 

"Tee hee."

"Tim!"  
"Okay, chill," Tim said, sobering somewhat. "It actually started out as a way to get the heat off of Damian's burst of magic. Then, Jason punched my ass, and I just...let my creative juices flow." Tim burst into full blown squeaky giggles, looking like an evil twink squirrel that was also very independently rich and had an overactive sexual imagination. 

"I usually only write dramatic stories to divert attention from our family," Tim whispered, leaning in close to Bruce. "I always have good intentions, Bruce," he said gravely, "but when someone hurts me, then I must hurt them back."

"The story implicated Dick too," Bruce pointed out. "Dick didn't punch your bum."

"No," Tim said, "but last week, Dick brought over a boxed lunch to work, and then he gave me a cheek kissy in front of the board of directors."

Bruce sighed and sat back as he watched Tim hum contentedly and wrap himself around his large coffee tumbler to lap at his brew with his tongue like a coy kitten. Sighing heavily, Bruce turned the paper over to look at the stocks and saw...

"Wayne Enterprises takes over Westerfield Industries." Bruce paused. They had fought on top of Westerfield building yesterday. "Tim."

Tim squeaked happily. "Yes, it was I, again! I herded Bane to Westerfield Building because I wanted to fight over it and cause their stock prices to fall so that I could buy them out dirt cheap! Terrific Timmy triumphs again!"

Bruce stood and left the table, leaving Tim snuffling the coffee machine and making little 'ooh' and 'aah' sounds of ecstasy at his own scheming. He settled in the sitting room to contemplate the State Of His Children 2019. 

Damian was showing emotion towards people who were Not Grayson, Dick was married and now a father, Jason was increasingly domestic, Cass was sneaking around to see Stephanie like he didn't know, and Tim was a budding evil genius. 

"FATHER!" Damian hollered from the kitchen.

"What?" Bruce asked tiredly.

"Drake is fornicating with the coffee machine!"

"Then pry him off!"

"I do not wish to touch him!"

"Use a spatula!"

"Oh no you don't, not my good spatula!" Alfred cried, and presumably leapt into action to defuse the situation. 

Bruce smiled. It looked like the State of His Children was, as ever, perfect.


End file.
